Touch
by Vitani FyreWolf
Summary: Inuyasha-Kagome angst-ridden lemony vignette. "Life contains but two tragedies. One is not to get your heart's desire; the other is to get it." - Socrates.


A/N: ::points accusingly at Cataluna:: This is all her fault. ALL her fault. Well, it's slightly Misha's fault too, but it's mainly Cat's. Because she challenged me..

Cat: I am going to scream if I read another lemon where Kagome goes "I shouldn't be surprised since he IS a dog demon" when Inuyasha is about to do her "doggy-style." Vitani: Might be a breath of air for Inuyasha to go missionary style and have Kagome think "Oh, not a surprise because he is half _human_." People tend to forget half of his heritage. Cat: LMAO! Vit, you gotta write one of those lemons or I'll stuff you in the bag.

Vitani: ::winks:: Is that a challenge? Cat: ::looks sternly at Vit:: Do you want to get out of that bag?

Yeah, so, here you are. It's sort of lemony. More angsty than lemony. You have to save real lemons for after they've had some... er... experience.

Please note: my Inuyasha may seem more submissive and less brash than what is seen in most fanfics. This is actually how I see the character of Inuyasha – take away his rough mask and I think he's really an awkward, insecure boy. Who wants to be loved but keeps messing things up and so doesn't really know how to let himself be loved. The boy is sensitive. I'm not saying he's a gushing romantic – because he is in NO way that, but I do think he's a lot more fearful when he doesn't have to protect his emotions. So. That was just said before I get a lot of people telling me how OOC they think he is (by all means tell me if you think particular things are OOC, but be aware that I don't think this Inuyasha is OOC. Except for the whole lemon part in the first place, but hey, that was the challenge!). This is actually how he seems to me when I watch and read Inuyasha.

Touch

By Vitani FyreWolf

_Life contains but two tragedies. One is not to get your heart's desire; the other is to get it._

Socrates

If asked, neither would be able to truly remember how it began.

Outwardly, the night wasn't different from any other. The search to get the last jewel shards inevitably ended up with the travelers collapsing, exhausted, in a typical small flat clearing in the woods. Well, all except the hanyou, who silently retreated into the trees without explanation. This didn't worry the others, for all knew that he was never out of hearing, and rarely out of sight. Routine dictated that they go to sleep to wait for him to rouse them the next morning, muttering under his breath and waiting impatiently for breakfast and to get back on the road. Somehow, this night was different.

This night, after all the others had drifted into sleep, she rose and followed him. She didn't think about it, she didn't know why. Lately she had stopped trying to make explanations for her behavior pertaining to him, there was no use, and she could never find an answer.

Instinct. That would probably be the best way to describe it.

She found him sitting in a small glen a short ways off from their chosen campsite, staring into the darkness – back rigid, beautiful face tight, tormented by the memories he could never escape, the dreams he thought would never come true. The girl sat beside him and raised one hand to his back, resting it upon his shoulder and slowly stroking the soft material. He did not move, did not acknowledge her presence. He knew she didn't need him to. She still worried, however. Always worried – about what he thought about, about what was in store for him, for them, about the pain he had endured and what he would still be forced to endure.

Maybe it started with curiosity. Or, perhaps, an indescribable need to comfort. Whatever it was, soon she was tangling her hands in his hair, running the silken strands against her skin, pressing them between the pads of her fingers. He twitched, and began to turn towards her with surprise clear on his face, but she stopped him with a simple glance. She needed to know how he would feel, and how he would react to her timid explorations. Needed to map his body, each smooth plane, hollow, or dip, so if the day came when she would be forced to leave his side... at least she would remember.

Fingers moved from his shimmering tresses to his arms, face, chest. Moving gently, exploring, seeing how far he would allow her to go. Inuyasha sat, his eyes closed tightly, unyielding to her caresses, unsure if he should leave or stay and allow her to learn about him in the way she would never be allowed to. But – her hands – he didn't think he could leave even if that was best, he had never –

His lips fell open with a sharp intake of breath as she moved the cloth aside to reach his chest. She simply touched, running her palms against smooth skin, content with being able to be in contact with him. At the small sound she looked up, and saw the look of uncertainty mingled with hope on his face. Her eyes were tinged with sadness, and she spoke the first words of the evening.

"Oh, Inuyasha, how many people were willing to touch you?"

Now the golden orbs opened and fixed on her face, luminous in the moonlight. He raised his hands, one to her shoulder and the other just under her chin, but hesitated there. She met his gaze, realizing what he was trying to tell her. He was clearly asking permission to feel her in return, but also reminding her that he could make her no promises, that while she always would have something to offer him he might not be able to offer the same. He did not want to think that he had done anything with her lightly. There was a slight flash of bitterness as she realized she could not deny him, and this gave her the most joy and the most pain she had ever known. As much as she seemed to stand up to him, when he truly wanted something she gave in so quickly... so, she smiled and tilted her head to the side, allowing his palm to glide down her neck - accepting him in the quiet manner she had so often before.

His final tentative wall broke down and he gave into the desire to touch and be touched. They had been in contact before, but never so directly or purposefully. No words were spoken, it was almost as if they had forgotten how to speak, completely lost in gently discovering each part of the other. Clothes became unimportant, simply getting in the way of their hands, and slowly they both were undressed. Time seemed to stop and they were almost in a separate world entirely, a world that allowed the two a brief respite from the trials of their real life to simply be with each other. For them, this was a rare – though not undesired – experience.

Kagome realized after a few moments of being unclothed that Inuyasha was looking at her, unsure, and she understood what he was asking. The two of them were pressed together, completely bare, and a situation like this normally led to... she would have blushed, but for some reason was very calm. It wasn't altogether surprising – she was often calm when he needed her to be. Perfectly composed, she sat up on her knees and bent forward, pressing her hands on his chest and her lips to his. He started, for with all their gentle explorations they had not yet kissed, and it took him a moment to reciprocate, cupping her elbows in his hands and tugging her forward more.

She kept moving and he tipped backwards slowly so that she was on top of him, arms braced in the grass and mouths still seeking each other. He moved one hand to tangle in the inky fall of her hair as it mingled with his, claws gently scratching at her scalp, causing rippling shivers to cross her body. Every once in a while he would break away to look at her with disbelief, causing her heart to ache at how clearly shocked he was to have someone this close to him. Finally his eyes seemed to veil in a way that said that he accepted this as a dream, something he would inevitably have to wake from. The moment she saw this she cried out softly and pressed her forehead to his, holding his face in her hands.

"No, _no_, Inuyasha – this is real, it is, I swear it is, please don't -"

Suddenly his mouth devoured hers, awkward and inexperienced but with desperation, and she let him clutch her and taste her to reaffirm her existence. To convince him that it was truly Kagome he held in his arms.

As his movements began to speak of more of desire, she started to wonder how this would happen. He was hanyou, she had no idea what the youkai customs were or how it would be different –

He pushed up on her gently, and she let him flip her over onto her back, half expecting him to frighten out of it and leave, that she had crossed the invisible boundary that they had so long ago consented to view each other from opposite sides of. But he didn't leave, and she was slightly surprised to feel him start to love her in the 'normal' way, with no clear differences she could see. The unconditionally loving part of her mind admonished her for having prior judgments. _Have you forgotten his humanity? Were you blinded by his youkai blood like so many others?_

In fact, weren't so many of the youkai humanlike? Would they really love any different? All thoughts of other youkai fled from her mind when Inuyasha sensed her attention elsewhere and set his mouth to ravaging her neck. She tilted her head back with a moan to allow him better access, and gave in to opening her senses to him completely – every movement, the way he touched her, the sounds he made deep in his throat when she returned his caresses.

His explorations continued and she gasped into his mouth as his strong fingers slid between her legs, gently rubbing and pressing, unpracticed but keenly aware of her every thrashing movement and helpless cry. He would not join with her quite yet, first he needed to know her, to memorize her reactions in the same way she had wanted to feel him. When one movement caused her to gasp and reach for him, he settled into a firm rhythm, circling the small nub that had elicited such a response. One fang sank into his lip as he watched her, shaking and helpless, and she started begging him incoherently and clutching at the fall of his hair. Suddenly she went rigid, and let out a keening sigh as she melted back against the ground, breathing heavily. He leaned down and pressed his head against her shoulder, overwhelmed by how open she was to him, and she turned her face to his and softly licked away the blood from the injured lip.

When they did finally join, Kagome closed her eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder, joyful despite the discomfort. He began to move and it was far from perfect, but he was in her arms and that was more than enough to make her happy. She didn't need the pleasure; the fact that he was allowing her to hold him was a gift in itself. He made small movements with his hands, asking her guidance, and she complied and murmured encouragement into his hair.

He glorified in touch, spending long moments running his hands against her skin and arching into her in return, almost worshipful. Her face shone with adoration for him, a small smile permanently on her lips as she felt him grip her like a lifeline, and for one moment she did not fear the inevitable day when she would be forced to let him go. This night was special. This night he allowed himself to be unguarded, to not worry about keeping face in front of his companions. She could never deny him, and for _this night_, he could not deny himself.

She protected him from his own façade.

Soon his head fell back and he let out a choked cry, and Kagome looked up fascinated by how the moonlight gave his body and ethereal silver aura. He fell back down against her, although still having the state of mind to brace himself as not to cause her even the slightest harm. He sighed as she raised her arms and brought him close, tucking his head under her chin. She had not finished, but she did not mind – the experience was new and he had taken care of her already. Perhaps later she would –

_No!_ Her mind admonished. _You cannot think about later, there IS no later for you, remember? You made that choice!_

_Was there going to be a **tonight?**_ Her heart retorted.

But she knew it was true. She could not allow herself to think of anything with him until it happened – _if _it happened, and she would content herself with what he gave her. She would.

They lay together until the early morning hours, neither daring to sleep for fear of losing what precious moments they had. They did not speak, either, for to speak would be to break the spell that had allowed them such a time. But the night could not last forever, and Kagome's chest constricted painfully as Inuyasha inevitably got up, not looking at her as he dressed swiftly. She felt so cold without him.

"We're going to be late," he stated harshly, but his eyes were averted and she knew he felt he must make up for his 'lapse' in behavior. All the same, she could not keep the sadness from reaching her face, and when he did turn his gaze to her he seemed to wilt.

After a moment's hesitation he knelt beside her and covered her hand with his larger one, leaning forward to press his forehead against her temple and take a deep breath of her scent. She looked down at their hands, and then smiled for him – the accepting smile that was his alone.

Inuyasha got to his feet and strode off into the forest, shaking his disheveled tresses over his shoulder. She watched him go, resigned to the knowledge that the hand touch would probably be the last time he would venture to come in contact with her for a while. They had done something 'taboo', something they could not even bring themselves to discuss. He told her more than he told anyone, but this was the one topic that could never be brought up. Nothing was resolved, they were in no situation for this to be the right course of action.

But she would never forget that when he had turned to look at her, she had seen something settled and peaceful in his eyes.

Kagome decided quietly that it was worth it.

_I let time decide who and what would stand its test of love.  
Your hands were speaking. No?  
I felt the movement go.  
The ice was breaking,  
so I wonder why did I identify with you, my love?  
To leave me empty and see if I'd survive?  
  
For every questioned hour, for every second devoured,  
you let me wander you into a myth that I misidentify.  
Please identify if it's me you want standing by your side.  
Identify these tears of mine!  
Am I lonely or am I just alive?  
Am I lonely or am I just alive?_

Natalie Imbruglia


End file.
